There once was a man who built a beautiful house and painted it pink. This house stood at the beginning of a road that led into the village and he lived there happily with his wife and two
children. He treasured his house and was very proud. He could often be found sweeping the front porch or cleaning the windows until they sparkled in the afternoon sun. When he wasn't busy
cleaning, he would sit on his stoop watching the villagers pass by ensuring no one dropped litter near his front gate and using his stick to shoo away any cats and dogs from his pretty garden.

Because this house was the first place people came to en route to the village, it was frequently their destination when it rained. But the man would spy them trying to seek shelter under the canopy
above his front door and he would go outside and tell them in no uncertain terms to "go away". "Please sir the weather is so bad, let us stay here until the rain stops" they would plead, "well
that's not my problem!" he would say and slam the door shut on those unfortunate people making sure he double locked from the inside.

One day, a stranger decided to take a walk to the village when it started to rain, he knocked firmly on the door of the pink house. The owner cracked opened the door to peek out and frowned
straight away as he took in the appearance of the stranger. His hair was dishevelled, his coat was full of holes and his shoes were completely worn through. "What do you want?" the owner barked,
watching the stranger warily, "hello sir, sorry to trouble you, but I was wondering if I could come in and dry off a bit, before I continue on with my journey". The owner looked the stranger up and
down again and said "no, I'm sorry that 's not possible I don't know who you are and I have my family to think about". "Please sir, I beg of you, I don't intend to harm you or your family I
just want somewhere dry to stay for a short while". The stranger began coughing and pulled his threadbare coat tighter against his thin, frail body. "No mister" said the owner "I can't have you
dripping all over my marble floor" and quickly closed the door without looking back. Maybe he should have, if he had peeped through the window he would have seen the stranger for who he really was
and changed his mind instantly.

A few days later the owner became very sick, his wife and children were very worried, all kinds of doctors were called but they couldn't find the cause. "Have you eaten anything unusual " the
latest doctor asked "no, no" the owner whisphered feebly. He tried desperately to think about everything he had done recently and all the people he had come into contact with, maybe he had picked
up their illness. " I remember now, a few nights ago a stranger, a man, came to my door seeking shelter" the owner spoke quietly. "Well what did you say?" asked the village witch doctor "no" said
the owner still struggling to catch his breath, "describe him" the village doctor persisted. The owner described the stranger in as much detail as he could manage but before he could finish, his
life left his body dramatically. The owner's family began to cry and the medical doctor checked his pulse to confirm his death. The village doctor began to shake his head because he knew what
had happened but didn't tell the grieving family.

Later on in the village square the witch doctor informed interested villagers of his suspicions, he said " it was a test! which the owner failed, he was too selfish and shallow, only concerned with
material things. Well now he would no longer be able to enjoy his house." All the villagers gasped at the news and rushed inside their homes extremely glad that they too hadn't built such a
beautiful pink house.